Not Enough Time to be Creative
by UltimateDovakiin
Summary: Paige and Tony start coming to a painful realization-they cannot be together. While Paige struggles with insanity, Tony struggles with letting go. (Mild gore, and a few intense scenes. If you've seen Don't Hug Me I'm Scared, you'll be fine.) A don't hug me i'm scared fic.
1. Chapter 1

Tony raised his sword high above his head, his face twisted into a malicious grin. Paige quickly kicked him in his gut and he stumbled backwards a bit. He lowered his sword and went for a swing at her.

Paige quickly sidestepped, but the end of his sword caught her dress and tore a large strip of fabric off, revealing her entire left inky leg. She snarled and threw a pencil at him, and it stuck right in his shoulder.

"Augh!" he snarled, grabbing the end and ripping it out. "My coat!" he cried in anguish as his coat tore and black colored blood poured out of the wound.

"Really Tony? You need to get your priorities in check," Paige joked, and then charged at him with two pencils raised.

He stood at her openly, not trying to charge her or block the oncoming attack.

Just as Paige was about to bring her pencils down into his chest, He ducked down and wrapped his arms around her abdomen and arms, leaving her defenseless against him. He stood back up, lifting her up from the ground a few feet.

"I need to get my priorities in check? No, I don't think so. For my main one's right here," he said with a warm smile, and their lips met.

When they separated, he set her down.

Paige giggled. "You are so sappy, Tony. But it's cute, so keep doing it," she beamed up at him and giggled again.

"Care for a dance?" Tony said, returning her smile. He extended his hand out to her.

Paige folded her arms. "You know I can't dance with you."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Of course you can. You're just not very good at it."

As he tried to refrain from laughing out loud, she wrinkled her nose at him playfully, but still didn't accept his offer.

"Oh, come on dearest. Please? I don't have much time before I have to get back to my duties as Master Timekeeper," Tony said, pushing his bottom lip out as far as it would go.

Paige looked at him with a look that suggested she was deep in thought. After a few moments she threw her arms up in the air and groaned. "Fine."

He took her hand and pulled her tight up to his body.

He led her through the same dance they did every time he offered a dance with her, but she still did not get the hang of it. The dance was a simple ballroom waltz with his own spin on it, but Paige didn't really ever feel like learning the steps.

Tony accidentally stepped on her foot.

"Ah!"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes...fine."

"I told you before dear, it's all about the timing."

Paige rolled her eyes.

Paige buried her head in the crook of his neck and kissed his neck. They held onto each other affectionately until the dance was over, and they bowed to each other.

"You're getting better," Tony commented.

Paige rolled her eyes and turned away from him. "Whatever," she said sourly.

He laughed nervously. "Paige? What's wrong?"

She refused to look at him.

"Not to be rude Tony, but you're starting to bore me," Paige said flatly.

Tony was a bit taken aback, and he stared blankly at her for a moment. "I...uh, what?"

She let out an exasperated sigh. "It's just, everything we do, everything _you_ do, and it's always so predictable. I just didn't know how to say it to you creatively and yet get my point out at the same time...so. Augh. Yeah. Whatever."

Tony scratched the back of his neck. "I didn't know you felt this way..."

"Obviously."

Tony scowled at her. "Well you could at least be kinder about it. Sometimes you are so absent-minded!"

She turned to him, balling her fists. "I'd rather be absent-minded than a dull "all-schedules, all-rules" stick-in-the-mud!"

Tony threw his hands up in the air. "What has gotten into you? You're not the Paige I'm used to! This is surprising from you!"

She stared back at him angrily, but her facade quickly wore away. Her expression fell into one of sorrow. "You don't get it, do you? Well, What's gotten into me, is, for lack of better term-you."

"M-me?" Tony sputtered.

A single tear rolled down her face and she hugged herself. "Tony. I love you. I thought I did. But we can't be together. A goddess of creativity and a god of logic. How do you honestly expect that to work? You are dulling the creativity inside of me. The more time I spend with you, the more I've noticed my sanity slipping. The more I've noticed my hair lose its color, or my creations becoming repetitive. And I can't continue to stay with you, or I know I'll die eventually. Your existence is literally killing me. And I...I..." she sighed. She looked up at him to see he was close to tears. She buried her face in her hands and ran the opposite way.

Tony felt his heart break into a million little pieces. He felt confused, sad, and lost all at the same time. He turned around to walk away, but found himself looking over his shoulder before he took his first step. Paige had teleported away by now, so he did the same.


	2. Chapter 2

Several hours later, after his duties were over, Tony returned to his home. He liked his house, it was large, secluded, and tasteful. He lived in a clock tower sitting on the side of a mountain. The tower stretched above the peak of the mountain, and on cloudy days if you looked from the top window down you wouldn't be able to see the ground.

He unlocked and opened one of the large double doors leading into his home, triggering a loud creaking noise as the door opened. Light poured in through the new opening from the setting sun. It stretched across the large open entrance room, and even hit the opposite wall. He stepped into the room, found the light switch, and shut the door behind him.

There was a large grand staircase sitting before him that winded around the walls of the room. To his right was the elevator, so that left him with either taking the stairs or the elevator.

He decided to take the stairs, and as he started walking up them, he looked over at the wall the stairs were connected to.

Paige had visited his house many times, and had complained how boring and predictable it was. So he told her if she spent the night at his home for a week she could do whatever she wanted while he was at work, and she took the job seriously.

She had hung up canvases along the wall and on each canvas she painted a silhouette of a rabbit running and jumping step-by-step. As the pictures continued, they changed color according to the rainbow. Tony chuckled lightly to himself as the rabbit ran up the stairs alongside him.

He walked up several flights before he got to the brewery room, where Tony experimented every now and then with drinks when time allowed.

He grabbed a wine glass and instead of mixing he poured himself a glass of his favorite wine-also his favorite drink-and stuck an olive on a toothpick into the glass.

He sat down in one of the stools at the bar and looked up at the large board staring back at him.

Paige had somehow gotten the idea to assemble corks Tony had kept stowed away in the basement into a canvas. Then she painted each cork individually into say "Tony" in elegant lettering.

He sighed and grabbed his wine glass. He walked over to the elevator, not wanting to look at Paige's rabbits as he went upstairs.

As he walked into the elevator, he realized that this might have been a worse idea.

Paige had put a canvas on every wall of the elevator, each one with a fun little twist. One canvas had "green is not a creative color" painted on it only using different shades of green. Another had the word "Meh!" written on it in different styles and sizes, along with a big "MEH!" burnt into the canvas in the center. The last canvas had "it's time to get creative" painted on it, along with her and Tony's handprints on the bottom. That one made his heart ache. He placed his hand over her hand print, and tried imagining her hand there. The door opened and he quickly turned away.

He stepped through and nearly dropped his drink. Hung high close to the ceiling on clothes lines, Paige had clothes-pinned comics of their time together randomly on the lines.

How had he forgotten all of these little treasures she had left?

One of the comics showed their first kiss, she had captured the flushed cheeks perfectly. Another showed the first time Tony asked her to dance. She didn't miss a detail.

Everywhere he turned, he was faced with a memorial of Paige, a dedication to their love. And even though she had surrounded him with herself, he had never felt more alone.

With a lump in his throat, Tony set down his glass, opened up a panel in the clock of the clock tower and changed into his night clothes. The breeze blew a few panels down, but he didn't care. It was only time before the rest of them were going to come crashing down as well.


	3. Chapter 3

Paige threw herself into her bed, which was actually a very large hammock hung between two stilts that her small cottage-house sat upon. She preferred to sleep outside because then she could see the stars.

She sobbed into her hands, and when she lifted her head she found her face to be hot and wet from tears and sweat. She tried to fan herself, but she instead burst into another round of crying.

"What was I supposed to do?" she wondered aloud.

"What should I have told him?"

"Did I even do the right thing?!" She shouted the last one, and stormed inside. She grabbed a hand full of brushes sitting on her dining table and ran up to one of her easels, this one in her living room. She appeared a canvas before her, along with some paints.

She began painting, letting her mind slip away and her hand take control. She took dramatic strokes, relieving her emotions through the painting. With every stroke or flick of her brush she felt more like herself.

The painting was done. She wasn't sure she had even registered what she was painting until she was done, and was slightly disappointed at the result.

She was staring at a canvas full of different shades of green. She had somehow managed to only use blue and yellows and get them mixed together while she was painting. And the result was a green canvas.

With an angry groan she grabbed the canvas by the edges and smashed it into the ground.

"THIS ISN'T CREATIVE AT ALL! WHO AM I ANYMORE?" she cried out, destroying the canvas by kicking it, stomping on it, and bashing it against things.

She forced her black ink arms to heat up into almost a boil. She gripped the canvas in a death grip until the heat finally made it catch on fire. When the canvas was lit, she cooled off her arms and ran outside with her burning canvas in hand. She threw the canvas as far as she could, angry with herself, Tony, and just about everything else in existence. The overwhelming power of her emotions made her knees give out and made her fall to the ground, and as she fell she hit her head on a rock.

Paige awoke sometime later, for it was light when she fell and now the stars were out. She rubbed her aching head and moaned.

She decided it might be a good idea to maybe try and splash her face with cold water to try to wake herself up. And if that didn't work, she decided she would lie down and rest. As she walked into the bathroom, she was met with her reflection.

Her hair was grey. It lost all of its curls and volume. Her face was sunken in and her eyes had large dark circles around them.

She looked at herself with fear. She placed a hand on her face as if to confirm this was really her.

She simply turned away from the mirror and went to lie down, without another look or further acknowledgment.

As her entire body trembled and shook, she tried to sleep and regain any sanity, since she had none left.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day, Tony found himself in a similar position as the one before.

Tony leaned out of the frame of the removable part of the clock in the secluded clock tower Tony called home. It was night, after his duties had all been completed.

Tony had a bottle of wine in his hand. He wasn't one to drink excessively, but he felt as if tonight was different. He ran his fingers through his hair and stared up into the starry night sky. He understood why Paige liked to do this so much, it was relaxing.

He had thrown his coat onto the floor as soon as he had gotten home, not caring much. He had also removed his shirt just to get comfortable, and as the night air nipped at his skin and raised goose bumps on his arms, he decided it was a good idea.

"Why must I be so unpleasant to you Paige? Why must you break my heart like this?" he thought aloud. He tried to wrap his mind around all the reasons why she couldn't be with him, why she had her sudden outburst.

"You said I am dulling the creativity inside of you, because my brain works logically, and yours creatively. So how am I supposed to work this out with you, if we can't think the same and thus never reach a solution together?" Tony said, tapping his fingers on his leg as he thought.

As his mind raced and raced, he became frustrated. He pulled at his hair, leaving it disheveled and untidy. He gritted his teeth and took excessive swigs of wine, but could not reach an answer.

"AH!" he finally cried out in frustration. He threw his wine bottle, (which was now empty) and it fell far and disappeared into the black of the night.

"Forget her! Look at 'll the time ah've wasted!" Tony said angrily. "How am I s'pposed to wake up early andontime in the m...rning?"

He started towards his bed, which was on the other side of the room, but instantly started tripping on his own feet.

"Why can't I jussst waahlk right?" He said angrily.

As he stumbled towards his bed, cursing angrily at himself, he began to feel sick. He stopped walking for a moment to throw up, and as he angrily cursed at himself for throwing up on his floor, he continued to his bed.

He finally made it to his bed, and before he could actually climb in and get comfortable, he passed out. His torso hung over the backboard, and his legs in an awkward position lying on the floor.


	5. Chapter 5

Tony awoke with the afternoon sun shining brightly through the open panel in his clock and his head began instantly hurting. He slowly sat up, or, until he realized he wasn't lying down, stood up. He tried to rub the soreness out of his neck, stomach, and head, until he realized just about everywhere else was hurting as well.

He sauntered over to the clock, then closed and latched the panel.

He rubbed his head and moaned. The pain was almost intolerable, and he decided he was going to rest for a little while instead of trying to get up and hurting more.

He fell asleep again and awoke to an awful smell an hour and a half later.

He groaned and located the source of the stench, a puddle of vomit on his floor.

He cringed. "You've got to be kidding me." He muttered.

He took the elevator down to the basement, where he kept his cleaning supplies. He found the mop and the little cart that came with it in the corner of the large open room that was the basement. He pushed it as lightly as he could, because the rumble of the device made his head hurt that much more. It was only when he reached the doors of the elevator did he realize there wasn't any water in it.

"Ugh." He said. The faucet he used to pour water in it was back on the other side of the room, where he had just retrieved the cart from. He reluctantly pushed the cart over to the faucet, feeling like his head was going to explode. He went to turn the handle, only to find that it had rusted up.

He rubbed his forehead with frustration and disbelief. "This is absurd."

He pulled at the faucet until it finally gave and water began gushing out of the spout. The water made an annoying noise as it clamored against the walls of the bucket and he snarled at the device when he heard it. He quickly shut off the faucet and sighed with relief. Only after the bucket had water in it did he realize he could have turned back time on the faucet and un-rusted it. He sighed and shook his head, which released another wave of pain.

He pushed it to the elevator, and enjoyed the quiet hum of the gears working while it lasted. When he reached the top floor, where the mess was at, he sighed and reluctantly pushed the cart forward.

He cleaned up the mess, all the while making a series of disgusted and horrified faces. When the job was done, he pushed it back into the elevator and back into the basement, where it belongs.

All the moving and the water that splashed onto his face woke him up, so instead of trying to rest he went the kitchen, which was a couple floors down.

His kitchen was very large and exquisite, as was everything else in his house. He decorated in a mix of modern and Victorian style, and the mix was found pretty much everywhere in his house besides the basement.

He made himself a cup of coffee and grabbed a couple pills for his headache. As he swallowed the pills and took a swig of coffee, he began to wonder why he was hung over, what he had been doing last night.

Then it clicked. Paige. She left him.

Suddenly Tony felt his heart aching now, about the only thing that hadn't been hurting before.

Tony set down his coffee mug and reached into his pants pocket. He pulled out a plain, silver pocket watch. He flipped it open and messed with the dial a bit, moving the hands around rapidly. While seemingly pointless actions, the watch allows him to see anywhere in time, at any location.

The image on the glass showed a woman almost unrecognizable to him. She was staring straight-faced into a mirror, straightening her long messy hair. She then reached for a pair of scissors and started cutting several inches off of her hair.

Tony looked at the scene before him, horrified. "Paige...what are you DOING?"

She couldn't hear him, for it wasn't how the watch worked.

Tony also noticed that her hair had been dyed a light grey, and the roots of her hair had been taken care of as well. If you hadn't seen Paige before, you'd think she had grey hair.

Her usual paper dress was replaced with a plain, long black one. She was also wearing gloves, there wasn't a drop of black ink anywhere.

"This, this is absurd!" Tony cried. He shut the watch and stuffed it back into his pants pocket, and rushed up to his room. He didn't even bother to take the elevator, and instead just sprinted up the stairs.

"If she's doing this to herself, I'll just have to show her I can change too!" he shouted triumphantly as he ran into his clothes room.

He grabbed a plain coat from his closet and threw it on the floor. He ran to the basement a grabbed a box full of miscellaneous clockwork pieces, as well as a sewing kit. He then ran back up to his room, and nearly passed out when he reached the top of the stairs from exhaustion.

"I'll show her who is boring! Predictable! I'm going to be creative! I'm going to win her back, I will not have this!" Tony shouted, he then began to work.

He had set aside a small portion of time a few years ago to learn how to sew. He remembers a few tricks from that day, but it was really a few months ago when Paige insisted he sew with her that he finally learned the skill. He began his work on the coat, and was satisfied with the finished result a half an hour later.

He had sewed cogs onto the large collar of the coat, long with a few other sprockets and such. He sewed clock hands on the rims of his pockets, and tore off the buttons and replaced them with cogs. He had sewed random small clock parts all long the steams of the fabric, and the result in a whole was a black coat outlined in gold brass.

He put on the coat to find that his craftsmanship was decent, or at least good enough to where nothing was going to fall off. And despite all the material, it was still a lightweight coat.

He quickly shed the coat and put on a dress shirt, (the only type of shirt he owns besides his coats) and quickly tucked it into his pants. He then quickly slid into a nearby pair of shoes and lastly put on his coat. He checked on Paige again through his stopwatch, and found her sitting on a swing, looking at the ground deep in thought. She looked to be at her house.

He was going to win her back.


	6. Chapter 6

Paige took a handful of hair into her hands and started making a braid. Usually about now, she would be eating lunch with Tony.

She paused from her braiding and sighed. She didn't feel like eating. She hadn't ate in a while, actually. She ran her fingers through her braid, instantly undoing it.

"I'm wasting time," she mumbled, mimicking Tony's nagging under her breath. She chuckled slightly.

She decided she would try to create something today, so she walked over to a canvas, grabbed a large easel, and was then confused as to what to use as her medium.

"Hmm..." she wondered aloud. She grabbed glue, paint, and buttons. These items were her go-to supplies, so they were her best bet.

"Where is the creativity? Where is the inspiration?!" She wondered aloud, balling her fists.

The fact that she had no inspiration yet or no creative ideas was really angering to her. She had never experienced this before in her life, and it developed rage and confusion and sorrow in her all at once.

She started having a meltdown, and proceeded to knock down nearby objects or kick them. She left the canvas and supplies alone for the most part-until she grabbed the jar of buttons. She smashed the jar on the table, causing the glass to shatter and fly across the room.

A shard had worked its way into her palm, and left a decent sized gash.

She quickly tore the shard out of her flesh, sending a wave of pain through her hand. As both hands became soaked in blood, she finally felt a spark of inspiration through all the pain.

Her fingers worked madly on the canvas, with a wicked smile on her face and the streaks of tears on her cheeks. The canvas soon became covered in her blood, and whenever she needed more, she would simply rub her fingers around the wound or just simply touch it. The floor beneath her and the canvas now had large puddle stains and splatters on them.

And so, a little more than half an hour later, Paige's creation was finished.

The words "WHERE IS THE INSPIRATION?" along with the word "creativity" written inside "inspiration" were scrawled onto the canvas, in her blood.

While with anyone else the craftsmanship may have been sloppy and untidy, with Paige her nimble fingers had made it work so that it looked like they had been painted with a brush.

There was some black ink mixed in with the blood, but for the most part she had control over that. The black ink, in her opinion, added a nice extra touch.

She began feeling light headed, so she lied down on the floor.

Feeling exhausted and still at a lack of inspiration, she sighed. Her vision became blurry and there was a slight ringing in her ears.

"...now let's all agree, to never be creative again," she whispered, and then passed out.

She awoke a few hours later lying in her bathtub. Her usual dress was missing, and was replaced with a boring black one. Her hands had gloves on them and the edges of the tub had blood streaks.

"What..." she whispered, confused.

She stood up and walked to the mirror to find her hair perfectly straight and cut short.

She squeaked and felt herself close to tears. "What's happening to me?"

She felt fear rise up in her chest. She turned away from the mirror, but could still feel her reflection behind her, so she quickly ran out of the bathroom.

She tried to take a few deep breaths, but she was still scared senseless. She wrapped her arms around herself in a hug and took more deep breaths as she paced her hallway.

"It's fine, it's fine, it's fine. I'm okay, this will all go away the more I don't see or think about...Tony." she muttered.

Her arms dropped. "Who am I kidding? I won't be fine-I let him go!"

She felt her eyes sting with tears and the fear in her chest replaced with a tug in her heart.

Paige shuffled to her door and opened it. The sky was turning orange and red, night time would be here soon. She stepped outside, the cool night air already starting to chill her bones. She left the door ajar behind her, and walked over to her swing.

Her swing was wooden plank attached to the branch of a dead tree by two ropes. It was simple, but it was good for star gazing. She sat down and hung her head, waiting for the moon to rise.


	7. Chapter 7

Tony put the watch away and teleported to her location. He appeared several feet behind her and she probably didn't even notice his presence.

Her hair no longer reached past her waist, it was cut cleanly at her shoulders and even straightened. Her usually thin waist appeared even more so as the black dress hugged her fine figure.

He cautiously walked up closer, until he was just a few feet behind her.

"Paige."

She slowly turned around.

"T-tony?" her voice cracked.

He slowly approached her, and sat down in the grass right in front of her swing.

"Paige, what have you done to yourself?" Tony asked her gently.

Her eyes welled up. Instead of answering his question, she threw herself into him, sobbing.

He cradled her in his arms, and when he noticed his coat was poking her and making her uncomfortable, he took it off. So much for being creative.

"Paige, what's happening with you?"

"Every time I wake up, I've turned even more dull, less creative. My hair loses color and I find myself aching all over. I love you Tony. But you're also killing me."

"How? Tell me how exactly so I can fix myself. I will do anything to keep you," Tony said, his voice wavering.

She cupped his cheek in her hand. As a tear rolled down his face, she wiped it away with her thumb.

"Don't cry. It's not you Tony, you're an amazing person. You're kind, caring, intelligent, and not to mention handsome. I would never ask you to change and I'm not going to now. It is just simply not meant to be, you and I. Our differences are to opposite to mix. I'm actually surprised you haven't been experiencing the same symptoms as I have...but I guess that's just you-always the hardy, head-strong one." She chuckled. "Nothing stops you."

Tony sighed and hid his face from her. "B-but...I love you...don't you understand? I can't live without you..."

Paige sighed. "I know...I lo-lovvvv...you too," she said, her voice strained.

Tony bit his lip and looked back at her. Her breaths were slow and shallow, and every time she blinked her eyes seemed to take an eternity to open. Her face for once in her life, showed little emotion. The only thing he could read from her expression was pain.

Her hand fell from his face.

"Wait...you're not actually dying, are you? You...You'll just respawn, like we always do when we die, right? Right?! Paige please!" Tony said frantically.

Her eyes shut and her chest stayed still. Her head rolled onto its side, limp.

"N-no...please..." Tony said. He held Paige closer to him, and began sobbing uncontrollably. He buried his face into her neck, wetting her flesh and hair with his tears.

"Paige... I love you." He said, although he knew there was no audience.

"And I just wanted you to know, that when I was with you, I start losing track of time. After I met you, I started doing different things more creatively, and making my daily schedule more imaginative instead of strict. I felt light on my feet and sloppy with my speech. I had never known what compassion or love was until we combined our psychotic abilities to come up with our strange romance. I had never known the beauty of life until I saw your death. I had never known how to be creative or to express myself until I met you...I had never truly lived until I met you. And I just wanted to say thanks. Thanks for the memories, the feelings, and all the wasted time spent well."

He looked down at Paige's corpse, not expecting much and receiving just that.

He carried her body over to her hammock and lied her down gently on it. He then grabbed the coat he had made earlier and wrapped it around her shoulders, but didn't but her arms through. Paige had always done that whenever she stole one of Tony's coats. He then went into her house and grabbed a few paintbrushes and pencils lying around. He placed them on her stomach and rested her hands upon them like they were flowers.

And then there was nothing more to be done. Time moves forward, only one way. And eventually everyone runs out of time. Here Paige had found herself at the end of her time, and Tony found himself having to move forward.

He arrived at his home the next day, for he had spent the entire day before at Paige's home.

When he got home, he felt as if everything around him were moving in slow motion. His footsteps took forever to fall, the pages falling from the clothes line due to the open panel rolled to the ground and took what seemed like minutes to fall.

He felt like the thoughts in his mind weren't processing, he felt like his heart took extra time to beat. He blinked slower, breathed slower, and moved slower.

_Perhaps this is just a side effect of mourning. Or maybe this is some sort of strange trauma I'm experiencing. _Tony thought. He then watched the last panel hit the floor.

And suddenly, time stopped. Or perhaps it was just his heart that stopped when he heard a familiar voice calling him from the main floor.

Tony had never ran so fast in his life. He nearly tripped twice running down the stairs, and scooped up Paige in his arms as soon as he saw her. He even lifted her off of the ground and spun her around after hugging her.

"I am so delighted to see you!" Tony exclaimed.

"I am too! And...I feel awful for treating you the way I had...so I want to make it up to you."

She extended a hand to him.

"If I may be so bold as to ask for this dance?" she said to him, eyes sparkling.

He took her hand gently in his and pulled her close. They started moving together, Paige never missing a step for once, and their feet so light it felt as if they were floating. Or, perhaps, Tony just missed the fact that Paige had sprouted a large pair of feathered wings.


End file.
